Poetry By
C.B. Anderson
Published on: 12/4/2015
While Ink Dries
Late in the afternoon, especially on Fridays, The amanuensis hums a secular tune And, equipped with a damp rag and a taper, tidies Up in the Master's workspace where his notes are strewn Along with pages of a weighty manuscript More than five years in the writing. A corn-straw broom Stands uselessly in a corner, its bristles tipped With clots of the settled dust that the entire room Is covered in— to sweep would send it all flying Everywhere and compromise the good work they'd done Earlier that day, which isn't dry yet. Lying Next to the inkstand is a long letter, begun But never finished, addressed to the Late Duchess, Who had commissioned a complete written account Of her family history, willing to spend as much as It took to get it done, no matter the amount. The poor old wealthy dowager suddenly died— In her sleep, may God rest her soul— with only six Or seven months-worth left of funding set aside To sustain the ongoing project. Politics Had no part to play in the arrangement, for she Was all but witless and wholly single-minded Regarding the tome she hoped was going to be Her abiding legacy— paying by the line did Not trouble her at all. But then, since the title Had been passed down to one of her distant cousins For whom accounts of his forebears were of no vital Importance, the Master was forced to ponder dozens Of schemes to secure and extend the generous terms Of his long-standing employment. It was not a thing— Though necessary— to be proud of, for the grim worms Had barely begun their feasting. In order to bring About a desirable change of heart and mind, The two of them, scholar and scribe, opened a Bible At last, in hope that they would be able to find Guidance there on methods for arousing tribal Conceits. Credit is due the amanuensis, Who bypassed the entirety of Matthew, Mark and Luke And brought a dissolute parvenu to his senses By reciting a passage from John for the new Duke: In the beginning was the Word... and the Word was God. Struck by the power a word holds, he gave them the nod.
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